Five Minute Fiction Week 105

She thought he’d already taken all her possibly could from her.

She was wrong.

The book had been sitting on Ally’s shelf for longer than she could remember. A book full of words and memories she shut out like so much sunlight in the dark, dilapidated corners of her mind.

She’d bought it years before on a mission of soul searching. To understand that itch that wouldn’t quiet. To make sense of the ghosts in her head. But she’d never touched it. The book had been insidiously whispering at her from its home amidst other, less dangerous books and now she was finally staring it in the eye.

Ally ran her finger along the spine. Brushed the fine layer of dust off the top. Pulled it with shaking hands from the shelf like it was something explosive or caustic.

And she read.

Words about how she should have been treated. How she shouldn’t have. Limits. Safewords. Understanding. Trust. Words that would have protected her from years of heartache, if only she’d known them before.

He had taken more than years from her. More than her confused submission. More than tears. More than the blood she’d shed so unwillingly.

He’d taken away a piece of her soul.

Ally wanted to know why. She wanted to know how someone could be this cruel.

But most of all, she wanted revenge.

Ally dusted herself off. Wiped away her tears. Put the book back in its place on the shelf.

And then she got her gun.

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